


Eight Glorious Weeks of Bliss

by dyllpickless



Series: TUA Pride Month 2019 [7]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Child Abuse, Gen, Good Brother Ben Hargreeves, Good Brother Diego Hargreeves, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Prostitution, Klaus Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Starvation, Stuttering Diego Hargreeves, TUA Pride Month, Time Travel, Transgender Diego Hargreeves, Transgender Klaus Hargreeves, Transphobia, Whump, nonbinary klaus hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-05-01 17:26:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19182415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyllpickless/pseuds/dyllpickless
Summary: Day 11 of TUA Pride Month: Standing Up to ReginaldWhat really happened when Klaus broke his jaw.





	Eight Glorious Weeks of Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Check the tags for all of the trigger warnings!
> 
> TW: Child abuse, transphobia, homophobia, starvation, referenced substance abuse

Klaus twirled one more time, his eyes trained on the glittering figure in the mirror. He looked _perfect_. Better than he’d ever imagined late at night when he was looking through the fashion magazines he’d swiped from Allison’s room. The finishing touch: Grace’s heels. It was nearly impossible to get his hands on those. He ended up having to dodge Reginald, Pogo, and Grace, then shove the pumps under his shirt and sprint upstairs. Sure, he later got punished for making such a racket on the way to his room, but it was still worth it.

The clothes, makeup, and shoes had to sit in the back corner of his closet for a month before he was able to try them on. Every time Grace went into his room to tidy up, he tried to hide them under a pile of clothes. When he came back, the clothes were always in the same spot, but folded up, showing that she had seen them. At least she didn’t tell Reginald. It felt like an eternity to wait, but finally— _finally_ —he was the only kid, save for Vanya (but since when did she count anymore?), left in the house. All of the others were sent on a mission, one where his powers were deemed useless by Reginald himself. And so he was delightfully alone.

He slipped the pink pumps onto his feet, wincing a bit at the size difference. But that wince melted away when he looked in the mirror again. He was _beautiful_. Maybe if he paid more attention in English, he would have the words to describe the beam of pure white light he felt in his chest.

Vanya was off practicing her violin, Pogo was busy watering the garden, and Grace was scheduled to be cleaning. It was the perfect time to practice walking around in his clothes. He’d need the experience for whenever he ran away and started wearing clothes he wanted, he thought.

So, without paying too much mind to how loud the clip clop of his heels were on the hardwood floor, he began walking around his room. He traced out the perimeter, drew figure eights, and strutted in circles. When he was confident that he could walk without stumbling, he started doing more advanced moves, like twirls and jumps. But soon, even that wasn’t enough. In the tiny confines of his bedroom, there simply wasn’t enough space for him to truly get the feel of walking in his outfit. He needed to go into the hall.

Ever so carefully, Klaus peeked his head into the hall and looked to the left and to the right. Empty. Beautifully, gloriously, perfectly empty. Throwing his chin up and his shoulders back, he placed his hands on his hips and strutted out of his room. A small spin, a little wiggle of his tiny shoulders, and he was dancing through the halls.

The stale air that sat stagnant in the halls of the Academy never tasted so sweet as when he was prancing around. It was the best feeling in the world. Euphoria. He let out a little giggle and spun once, twice, three—

He ran into something hard and sturdy. Not a wall; he knew for a fact there wasn’t a wall in the middle of this hallway. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked up from where he’d fallen to the floor.

“Dad.”

“Number Four! What in God’s name do you think you are doing?”

“I-I…”

Reginald huffed and looked down at him over the bridge of his pointy nose. “Stuttering is already insufferable from Number Two. I don’t need to hear it from you too.”

“I didn’t think—”

His words were interrupted by a harsh slap across his cheek from the butt of the cane his father always carried with him. “I can see that very clearly.”

Klaus was trapped. He was stuck and there was nothing he could do to get out of the situation. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“Quit your sniveling and get up, boy,” Reginald snarled and waltzed a few steps away from his crying adopted son. “I do think you’re becoming too close to Number Two. That is an issue that will be addressed when he comes back from his mission, hm?”

Now he was confused. Klaus got that Reginald was mad that he’d stolen Grace’s and Allison’s clothes, and he understood that he was mad that he was out dancing around the Academy during his scheduled European History time. What he didn’t understand was what Diego had to do with any of this. “Huh?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Six sneaking into his room,” Reginald snarled. “I tolerated it when Number Two said he wanted to be a boy. I was understanding and I helped him, did I not? But seeing that he’s rubbed off onto you now as well…” he trailed off into an angry cloud of thought. “It simply won’t be allowed.”

“Diego is a boy!” Klaus retorted in a raised tone, his voice losing a bit of its edge because of how high pitched it was. “And he has nothing to do with this!” Reginald’s grip on his cane tightened threateningly and he glared at Klaus. “Don’t tell me lies about the affairs in my own household,” he spat. “Now, get up. I won’t have you cowering on the floor like some limp-wristed fool.” He lunged forward and grabbed Klaus’ forearms so tightly that the child was sure he would find red marks and began to walk, dragging Klaus across the floor like a rag doll.

“Let go! You’re hurting me!” His voice cracked in fear as his feet scrambled across the floor, trying to find enough purchase that Reginald would be forced to let go of him.

“You have no authority in this household,” the man barked down at the child. He threw his arm down, finally freeing Klaus, who didn’t move for fear of what was next. “I thought you learned your place long ago, but this new misbehavior has simply gone too far. You are to return this clothing at once.”

“Allison wasn’t even using it! It’s her old clothes!”

Reginald scoffed and adjusted the cane in his hands. “Disobedience will not be tolerated.”

“But, Dad—”

A sudden harsh crack from Reginald’s cane echoed through the halls and for a split second Klaus had no idea what happened. Then a blinding pain, worse than anything he’d ever felt before, shot through Klaus’ skull. He didn’t even have the wherewithal to cry out; he just silently sat there in shock. Sure, Reginald had hit him before, but it was never this hard and it never hurt this much.

Through the sound of blood rushing past his ears, Klaus could make out that Reginald was talking. “… in the mausoleum should fix it, don’t you think?”

“What?” His mouth fumbled around the words and when he tried to close his mouth, his teeth felt like something was off, not letting his jaw close all of the way.

“Two days in the mausoleum,” Reginald hissed like Klaus was dumb. “And you are to tell nobody of what happened here today, do you understand? If anybody finds out about this, you’ll just have to get a bit more extra training to ensure you are obedient.”

Klaus whimpered. The tears in his eyes made the light reflecting off the glitter on his body turn into starbursts, taking over his vision. Or maybe it was the pain that still hadn’t dulled in his jaw.

“I’m waiting for an answer.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, trying to keep his mouth as still as possible.

Thankfully, that was enough to satisfy Reginald for the time being and he walked away, leaving Klaus in a silently crying heap at the top of the stairs.

  


“Number Four, stop drooling.”

The sudden voice made everybody at the dinner table jump. It wasn’t often Reginald would speak while they were eating, and when he did they knew it was about something serious. All but Klaus breathed a silent sigh of relief that the sudden wrath wasn’t directed towards them. Klaus just hurriedly wiped the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, praying that dinner would end soon.

“And for God’s sake, eat your food,” Reginald sighed, looking up from his lamb chops and giving Klaus a look that said he didn’t deserve the oxygen Reginald just wasted by saying that.

_I’m trying,_ he wanted to say, but at that point it hurt too much to move his jaw. _Something is wrong._ He wanted desperately to eat. Those two days in the mausoleum exhausted him, and was only made worse by the fact that he didn’t have any food or water at all while within those cold stone walls.

He sent his siblings wild looks, praying that one of them would speak up, but they all avoided his gaze. They knew that if they got caught sending him any kind of encouragement or support, they would get punished just as harshly as he would. The only look of recognition he got was Luther sending him a dark look for his disobedience.

Klaus knew his siblings saw the bruising on the side of his face, but he also knew that injuries like that didn’t carry much weight in the Academy. They probably thought it was just from special training, or something.

“If you’re just going to sit there, you can go to your room.”

Klaus immediately disappeared, followed only by the sound of clattering silverware and the scrape of his chair against the floor.

Or so he thought. A few minutes after Klaus had carefully buried himself in a nest of blankets, there was a soft knock on his door. He knocked on the wall by his head to tell whoever it was to come in. Without looking up, he knew it was Ben and Diego. Of course it was. Out of all of his siblings, they were the two that seemed to care the most.

“Klaus, what’s wrong?” Diego’s voice was surprisingly gentle. Usually it was Ben that was the comforting, emotional one out of the trio.

The kid in the blanket shifted to look at his brothers with tears in his eyes. His movements revealed just how bruised and swollen the side of his face had gotten. Every tiny action made him want to scream from the pain, so he just sat there and hoped that was enough.

“That looks really bad,” Ben hissed.

“I’m getting Mom.”

Diego left the room before Klaus could even try to protest. All he could do was hold tightly onto Ben’s hand and pray that Reginald wouldn’t get too mad.

  


Klaus’ head was hung low as he shuffled out of the infirmary. He didn’t want to face his family, but he knew he’d have to eventually. _At least Mom wired my jaw shut,_ he thought grimly. _No chance of me slipping up and telling them what happened._

Reginald’s threat echoed through his head as he made his way through the house. His blood ran cold when he saw everybody was lined up in the main room with Reginald standing in front, sporting a small yet satisfied smile. “You may speak, children.”

Kind, gentle, loving Ben was first. “How are you feeling?”

Klaus just nodded and gave a shaky thumbs up. He tried not to look at Reginald too much, lest his siblings think something was awry.

“We missed you,” Diego said softly.

Klaus just offered a tight-lipped smile in response.

“Why aren’t you talking?” Five asked, never one for pleasantries or following the rules. Of course he would be the one to question Reginald’s authority.

“Number Four tripped and fell down the stairs wearing Grace’s heels,” Reginald said for him, his eyes sharp and daring Klaus to refute his statement. “His jaw will be wired shut until he has healed.”

Luther was the first to laugh, but most of the others weren’t too far behind. “Great job,” somebody quipped—Klaus couldn’t hear who it was over the sound of the blood rushing in his ears. If anybody thought something was up, he didn’t notice.

  


Years later, Klaus had almost completely forgotten about that incident. Sure, he may have learned sign language in case he was ever stuck in a situation where he was rendered unable to talk, and yeah maybe he got a bit twitchy whenever his mouth would close the wrong way and his teeth wouldn’t line up, but that’s all water under the bridge. He barely even thought about it until Diego brought it up in the car.

_Eight glorious weeks of bliss,_ he said.

Klaus had to take another swig of his vodka to not throw up at his brother’s words. It wasn’t Diego’s fault—he still thought Klaus tripped and fell. Now that Klaus thought about it, Ben was the only person other than him and Reginald that knew the truth, and that’s because he accidentally confessed it when he was about to pass out in some alley.

“You should tell him,” Ben said softly. It made him sick to hear Diego joke with Klaus about it, and he knew Diego would feel bad if he knew what had actually happened.

Klaus just ignored him. “Just drop me off here,” he sighed.

  


With the apocalypse over and dealt with, there was nothing left to keep Ben from constantly pestering Klaus about confessing the truth. No panicked jumps through time and space running away from The Commission, or running to an event that caused the apocalypse in one way or another. Just time. No amount of cooking on Klaus’ part could keep Ben’s pestering at bay, especially since he no longer was a ghost.

“It’s going to be harder the longer you wait.”

“Is that what he said?” Klaus thought for a moment. “I don’t think that joke would work. Unless whoever ‘he’ is is into that sort of thing. You know, once there was this guy that asked me to—”

Ben quickly interrupted him before he could go too far down that rabbit hole. “I’m just saying, it’s like ripping off a bandaid. You can’t hold this in forever, and Reginald can’t exactly do anything to you if you say something. He’s off in the afterlife. I don’t think anything would bring him back.”

“Fine,” Klaus hissed, nearly throwing the pie he’d just taken out of the oven at his brother. “If it will get you to stop bothering me.” His brother had been at it for the past hour in just that day alone, and Klaus was convinced he was going to be driven insane if it didn’t end soon.

He tried not to think of the implications of Ben’s cheer. Am I really going to do this? But at that point, he didn’t exactly have a choice. Ben had already left the kitchen to go gather their siblings.

  


_Why the hell am I doing this? _Klaus thought as he looked at his siblings, who were all sitting at the breakfast table in their usual seats.__

Apparently his silence stretched for too long, because Luther sighed and spoke up. “So are we just going to sit here, or…?”

_Like ripping off a bandaid._ “You know that time I fell down the stairs in Mom’s heels and broke my jaw?”

Everybody let out a little chuckle at the memory. “Yeah? Why are we talking about that now?”

“Well.” _Here we go. No turning back. Like ripping off a bandaid._ “I didn’t exactly trip.”

“Mom saw you,” Allison deadpanned cautiously, like she was doing the mental math trying to figure out what Klaus was insinuating.

“She could have been programmed to say that,” Five said. “Right?”

Klaus nodded, the familiar feeling of nausea rushing back. _Maybe today isn’t the day. Maybe I can just crack a joke and we can worry about all of this later._ Ben obviously recognized Klaus’ hesitation as him second guessing the conversation, so he sent him an encouraging look. _It’s going to be harder the longer you wait._

He wrung his hands out, then squeezed them into fists. Deep breath. “I didn’t trip and fall down the stairs,” he repeated. “Dad beat me and lied to you guys afterwards.”

There was a loud crack and Klaus looked up to see Luther had slammed his fist down onto the table. “He did what?” _At least he’s mad,_ Klaus thought. He was half expecting Luther to defend Reginald, despite how they all had helped him work past that.

“He saw me walking around the house in a dress and makeup and Mom’s heels, so he yelled at me and hit me with his cane.” Klaus tried to be as objective as possible, a method he’d picked up long ago to help him deal with the shit he’s been dealt. If he acted like things didn’t affect him, it was easier to not get so depressed all of the time. That and drugs. _God, I wish I wasn’t sober._

“Jesus fucking—Oh my god,” Diego paled and Klaus knew exactly what he was about to say. “And I made all of those jokes.”

“It’s fine, Di, I made the same—”

“No, really, I—”

“I’d kill him if he wasn’t already dead,” Allison growled, dragging everybody’s attention to her. “Do you think you can bring him back so I can kill him again?”

The question was meant to be joking, but Ben still shook his head. “That wouldn’t be the best idea.” At everybody’s questioning looks and Klaus’ lack of protest, he continued. “Apparently, when _that_ happened, Reginald threatened to do worse if Klaus told anybody. That’s why it took so long for him to tell you guys.”

Vanya let out a deep sigh and ran her fingers through her hair. “Klaus, I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Klaus was taken aback by his siblings’ reactions. He wasn’t expecting apathy in any form, but it was still surprising to see how much they cared. Klaus was used to his family just ignoring his issues, or brushing them off as problems stemming from his drug use. Before the apocalypse, the thought of Luther getting angry at their father would have never crossed Klaus’ mind. But here he was, telling them one of his few remaining secrets, and they were taking his side and getting heated about how he was treated in the past. He caught the smile that Ben sent him from across the table and he sent one back. _Maybe things were going to get better._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3 Comments and kudos are much appreciated!
> 
> Just a few things:
> 
>   * I love you, Vanya, and I'm sorry I had to do that to you. Reggie brainwashed the Academy into thinking you were useless and didn't matter, and I couldn't just write that away. Love you girl
>   * Klaus is very clearly blaming the abuse on himself and aaaa it makes me sad and I'm the one that wrote it
>   * I almost finished this fic after the dinner scene (before Ben and Diego follow him into his room) but then I decided to let my boy heal a bit. You're welcome :)
> 



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